There is this feeling of being cracked open, rushing endlessly outwards and upwards, and wanting somebody to hold you still, bring you back to yourself. It’s an incredible, celestial, but somehow lonely feeling… read more >

The Fabled Story of Vietnam’s Park Lane Cigarettes
I, like many in the late 60s, had a subscription to Rolling Stone Magazine. Smokestack El Ropo occasionally published “Fables” in it. Each typically had




